Marcy Abong
Dr. Jay Fogleman
EDC 102H
12 September, 2014
Waldorfian
I am a former Waldorf student. Waldorf is a type of education created by Rudolf Steiner that is rooted in art and nature; in short, a young child's dream. My first Waldorf School, Potter Hill, used to be right down the street from URI. The building it used to be in is now inhabited by The Compass School. Sometimes, when I drive on Shermantown Road I'm transported back in time to the my first days at Potter Hill. I am suddenly five years old again and I can ‘see’ my new classroom so distinctly. When you first enter the room, there are cubby's with each student's name and symbol on them. My symbol was a tree. Perhaps it was chosen at random, but I like to think I was assigned that tree for a reason. I was destined to one day stand tall, both literally and figuratively. As the years passed, nurtured by caring teachers and a remarkable style of education, I matured into a strong and productive person. Through artistic and nature-centered instruction, my early Waldorf education taught me to be a deep learner.
I have very fond memories of those first years of school. That's when we learned about Plura Plus and Murray Minus, addition and subtraction, and also how to write in cursive. I found this foreign script to be beautiful and challenging, especially capital letters. My classroom felt like home. When I think back, it seems less like a place I went to school, and more like a place I did art projects and played with my friends. There were no standardized tests that I can remember, until about the sixth grade. No televisions, computers, or calculators were ever used. We weren't even allowed to have digital watches. We were, however, rich with creativity and imagination. We would spend what seemed like hours in the forest, making forts, climbing trees, collecting clay from the stream. I pray to never lose the connection with nature that I developed over my eight years in Waldorf. That is something for which I am eternally grateful.
I am also grateful for the sense of wonder and magic that was instilled in me at Potter Hill. There, I was raised on the belief that there were gnomes in the forest, little spirits that I had to respect. Why? Well, because the forest was their home, and I was only a visitor. I always had the feeling that I wasn't alone in the woods. Not in a scary sense, but more like I was always protected and that the spirit of the forest was watching over me. That spirit was like a combination of God and my mom; I couldn't see it, but I knew all it wanted was to make sure I was safe. That sense of openness and innocence is something I hope to revert back to. As I read in the excerpt from What the Best College Students Do by Ken Bain, I agree that rediscovering childlike curiosity fosters a passion for learning. I know that I once had this ability, and intend to retrieve it. As I grew older, the sense of wonder was harder to hold onto. It was easier to be caught up in the magic of this education system when I was a young child, and knew nothing of tests, computers, and term papers. So much of what I learned did not come with the anxiety of a looming test. This allowed for enjoyment and excitement rather than memorization and fear.
And I always knew that not every school was like mine. I had friends who went to public school, and often I felt inferior to them because I was taught in a different way. I first got a taste of public school when I visited my best friend Lucy at her school for a day. Sheffield Elementary School was a large brick building that sat neatly on a concrete lot. “Huh,” I thought, “No forest.” The differences were immediately apparent, and continued to mount as the day progressed. It was on that day that I was introduced to something called "the worksheet," which I would become all too familiar with once I reached high school. In Lucy’s gym class, we sat on the shiny wooden gymnasium floor and stacked cups. Apparently this was considered physical activity in the eyes of the Newport Public School System. What I learned from my visit was this: my school was so much more interesting.
I relocated to a new Waldorf School in the fourth grade when Potter Hill was closed. Meadowbrook Waldorf School was older than Potter Hill and had a stronger foundation, allowing for even more experiences than I had previously. Everything we did was so interesting and engaging that I never felt like I was at school. It was not lecture structured, but hands-on instead. For example, there was something called ‘Handwork’ class. Early on in Handwork we learned to finger knit, then crochet, and eventually to knit and sew. Both boys and girls had Handwork, although there were far more girls than boys in my class. We also all learned to work with wood, using knives, rasps, sandpaper, saws, etc. The things I made in those classes are some of my most precious treasures. Also dear to me are my countless work books with hand drawn illustrations and fountain pen writing, each book representing a different year and lesson learned. Unlike the cold and unfriendly binders and textbooks I currently use, I would never discard my work books. They not only contain information I learned, but also artistic renderings of particular lessons. Writing about all of the things I used to do at my two Waldorf schools brings me an overwhelming sense of yearning. I always knew Waldorf was special, but I could not see how much I have benefited from it until now.
In reflecting on my early education, I have realized that I was extremely lucky. To grow up in a learning environment that felt like a family allowed me to approach schooling with an eagerness and sense of love that not everyone experiences. Throughout those eight years I grew and flourished into a strong, capable, and yes, tall being - very much like my symbol from Kindergarten, a tree. Back then, I did not view learning as a chore, but rather as an opportunity to expand my mind. Those early years were instrumental in shaping my point of view towards education, and also the world. I learned that there is goodness everywhere and that no matter how old you are there is always more to learn. Most importantly, I learned that you are never truly alone, especially not in the forest.
Dr. Jay Fogleman
EDC 102H
12 September, 2014
Waldorfian
I am a former Waldorf student. Waldorf is a type of education created by Rudolf Steiner that is rooted in art and nature; in short, a young child's dream. My first Waldorf School, Potter Hill, used to be right down the street from URI. The building it used to be in is now inhabited by The Compass School. Sometimes, when I drive on Shermantown Road I'm transported back in time to the my first days at Potter Hill. I am suddenly five years old again and I can ‘see’ my new classroom so distinctly. When you first enter the room, there are cubby's with each student's name and symbol on them. My symbol was a tree. Perhaps it was chosen at random, but I like to think I was assigned that tree for a reason. I was destined to one day stand tall, both literally and figuratively. As the years passed, nurtured by caring teachers and a remarkable style of education, I matured into a strong and productive person. Through artistic and nature-centered instruction, my early Waldorf education taught me to be a deep learner.
I have very fond memories of those first years of school. That's when we learned about Plura Plus and Murray Minus, addition and subtraction, and also how to write in cursive. I found this foreign script to be beautiful and challenging, especially capital letters. My classroom felt like home. When I think back, it seems less like a place I went to school, and more like a place I did art projects and played with my friends. There were no standardized tests that I can remember, until about the sixth grade. No televisions, computers, or calculators were ever used. We weren't even allowed to have digital watches. We were, however, rich with creativity and imagination. We would spend what seemed like hours in the forest, making forts, climbing trees, collecting clay from the stream. I pray to never lose the connection with nature that I developed over my eight years in Waldorf. That is something for which I am eternally grateful.
I am also grateful for the sense of wonder and magic that was instilled in me at Potter Hill. There, I was raised on the belief that there were gnomes in the forest, little spirits that I had to respect. Why? Well, because the forest was their home, and I was only a visitor. I always had the feeling that I wasn't alone in the woods. Not in a scary sense, but more like I was always protected and that the spirit of the forest was watching over me. That spirit was like a combination of God and my mom; I couldn't see it, but I knew all it wanted was to make sure I was safe. That sense of openness and innocence is something I hope to revert back to. As I read in the excerpt from What the Best College Students Do by Ken Bain, I agree that rediscovering childlike curiosity fosters a passion for learning. I know that I once had this ability, and intend to retrieve it. As I grew older, the sense of wonder was harder to hold onto. It was easier to be caught up in the magic of this education system when I was a young child, and knew nothing of tests, computers, and term papers. So much of what I learned did not come with the anxiety of a looming test. This allowed for enjoyment and excitement rather than memorization and fear.
And I always knew that not every school was like mine. I had friends who went to public school, and often I felt inferior to them because I was taught in a different way. I first got a taste of public school when I visited my best friend Lucy at her school for a day. Sheffield Elementary School was a large brick building that sat neatly on a concrete lot. “Huh,” I thought, “No forest.” The differences were immediately apparent, and continued to mount as the day progressed. It was on that day that I was introduced to something called "the worksheet," which I would become all too familiar with once I reached high school. In Lucy’s gym class, we sat on the shiny wooden gymnasium floor and stacked cups. Apparently this was considered physical activity in the eyes of the Newport Public School System. What I learned from my visit was this: my school was so much more interesting.
I relocated to a new Waldorf School in the fourth grade when Potter Hill was closed. Meadowbrook Waldorf School was older than Potter Hill and had a stronger foundation, allowing for even more experiences than I had previously. Everything we did was so interesting and engaging that I never felt like I was at school. It was not lecture structured, but hands-on instead. For example, there was something called ‘Handwork’ class. Early on in Handwork we learned to finger knit, then crochet, and eventually to knit and sew. Both boys and girls had Handwork, although there were far more girls than boys in my class. We also all learned to work with wood, using knives, rasps, sandpaper, saws, etc. The things I made in those classes are some of my most precious treasures. Also dear to me are my countless work books with hand drawn illustrations and fountain pen writing, each book representing a different year and lesson learned. Unlike the cold and unfriendly binders and textbooks I currently use, I would never discard my work books. They not only contain information I learned, but also artistic renderings of particular lessons. Writing about all of the things I used to do at my two Waldorf schools brings me an overwhelming sense of yearning. I always knew Waldorf was special, but I could not see how much I have benefited from it until now.
In reflecting on my early education, I have realized that I was extremely lucky. To grow up in a learning environment that felt like a family allowed me to approach schooling with an eagerness and sense of love that not everyone experiences. Throughout those eight years I grew and flourished into a strong, capable, and yes, tall being - very much like my symbol from Kindergarten, a tree. Back then, I did not view learning as a chore, but rather as an opportunity to expand my mind. Those early years were instrumental in shaping my point of view towards education, and also the world. I learned that there is goodness everywhere and that no matter how old you are there is always more to learn. Most importantly, I learned that you are never truly alone, especially not in the forest.